Murderdolls
“Beyond The Valley of the Murderdolls”
(Roadrunner)
Some sad unfortunates will probably eat this horribly banal bullshit up like it was a Whopper after a ten day fast. And you know what happens if you gobble up a Whopper after a ten day fast? You blow filthy barely digested bits of Whopper up all over the damn place, and that’s pretty much what this album does. It’s a sickening waste of noisy time, an affront to the civilized and self-obsessed Hollywood driven bilge. Fuck this creatively bereft crap. What the Murderdolls evidently want to be is a cross between the worst of eighties glam like the L.A. Guns and the worst of late nineties Nu Metal like, oh, say… Static X, someone of whom from that latter band is in this band so go figure. I love it when one person can be in two bands that are a waste of perfectly good digitally encoded aluminum. The screaming vocals holler, “People hate me and you can all fuck off.” My recommendation is we all do just that, fuck off and keep our money and ourselves far away from this mess of egotistical self-flagellation.
